


Public Soiree, Private Desires

by Mahawna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 12:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17141657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahawna/pseuds/Mahawna





	Public Soiree, Private Desires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MidnightChardonnay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightChardonnay/gifts).



The tree glimmered under the moon, it’s light shining a luminescent glow through the large window panes. The party was winding down, most participants already feeling the effects of the eggnog and firewhiskey, some saying their goodbyes to brace the bitter cold outside. Others found solace on soulee couches about the ballroom, spilling their secrets behind the rims of their glasses.

Theo stood by the door, scanning the room and shaking his head. He lingered by the main entrance for the majority of the party, a means for a swift and easy exit should the masses get too overwhelming. He was never truly fond of crowds. He stayed, however, even when the dancefloor grew shoulder to shoulder with drunken wizards and witches alike, swaying to strings of melodic Christmas songs. He even stayed when someone charmed the mistletoe, dodging the tricky bundle of green for almost an hour before it settled on a young couple already snogging in the corner. He stayed because he promised her he would. 

She had been an attentive host, gliding across the space elegantly like the queen she was; the queen he knew her to be. She would give him just enough. A smile here, and light wink there. He didn’t mind the minimal attentions, not when he’d been so used to her antics since the beginning. For months now, him and the Malfoy Matriarch had been dancing this same dance around one another, lingering looks and licking of lustful lips. How he craved the feel of her against him,  _ beneath _ him. He’d always admired her - the boy chasing the woman. 

oOo

She could feel his gaze upon her as she made the required rounds through the throng. She often wondered why she bothered with these gatherings anymore, entertaining the same drunken fools with every charity or holiday celebration. Her duties may never end. The only thrill she gained from these little soirees anymore was brought on from those youthful, yet masculine green eyes. Green so deep they put her carefully placed festive greenery to shame.

Narcissa would flick her eyes just long enough to catch his attention, an elegant smirk spread across her painted ruby lips. She didn’t dare approach him while he stood alone, not when so many others were sober enough to catch on to their little game. It was when Draco managed to saunter his way over to his best childhood friend that her grin grew wider - the prowess woman ready to make her move.

She circled by the two young men, Draco and Theo, trading out her son’s firewhiskey for something less abrasive with a practiced hand. Her darling boy, much like his father before him, never  _ could  _ hold his liquor, though, trying to tell either of them such things would be unheard of. Stubborn as Abraxian stallions those two.

Draco’s drink had been a perfectly timed ploy for her arrival at her son’s side. She needed to replenish her own thirst after all. And with those green eyes on her every move the entire evening, she knew it wouldn’t quench until she was in for a closer look. The boy had certainly filled out since she had seen him last, neither able to steal a moment’s peace to indulge in each other’s fantasies she knew they both craved. He was still on the skinny side, but not so gangly anymore. No, he was trim, standing taller than Draco which only drew attention to the lack of fat on his body. But she wasn’t fooled. She had seen the boys out earlier playing a pick up game of Quidditch. She knew exactly what those dress robes were concealing. Not boys,  _ men _ . They hadn’t been boys in a very long time. She had seen the evidence of that clearly enough herself. 

She only held the gaze of those green eyes for but a moment longer as she swept past, but it was enough. She had seen the hunger there, the longing, but not in some twisted, possessive way most men aimed her way. The way Lucius had looked at her. No, this was the wanting gaze of admiration, of worship. Devotion. Dear Merlin, she  _ wanted _ that. But, business before pleasure. A widow’s duties never seemed to end.   
  
She tried quickly, but politely, to make her way through the rest of the crowd, exiting gracefully down a side hall that led out toward the kitchens. She was growing more desperate to experience what was clearly being offered, and it wasn’t until she felt his hands eagerly wrap around her waist that she gave in to him fully. His touch, his  _ breath _ as his lips found the crook of her neck. This was to be a  _ very _ happy Christmas after all.


End file.
